


A face like five miles of dirt road

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Adorable Jester (Critical Role), Beauregard & Mollymauk Tealeaf Friendship, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking & Talking, Fist Fights, Frumpkin (Critical Role) is an Emotional Support Animal, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 00:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: When Beau entered the bar, bleeding from multiple different places and bruised to shit and her face looking like it went through all different kinds high hell, Caleb knew immediately where she's been and what she's been up to.And, evidently, so does Molly.





	A face like five miles of dirt road

**Author's Note:**

> I may have gotten the dialogue a little messed up but I haven't written them 'pre Mighty Nein' in a while so I tried to fix it a bit more. Also, I'm sorry it's so short, I tried my best.

When Beau walked through the door of the tavern at an ungodly hour of the evening, Caleb looked up from where he was reading at a table in the corner to admire the blood dripping down her chin from her split lip and the mottled bruising on her face, one eyelid forced closed by the swelling of a black eye. “You look like shit,”

“Fuck off,” she grunted as she slid into the seat opposite him. The barmaid walked over, took one look at the mess of Beau’s face and walked off again to fetch her a strong drink. “Is everyone in bed?”

“They are now,” Caleb turned another page but he wasn’t really reading it. “Once Fjord and Jester gave up trying to find you and Molly convinced them it was a fool’s errand, they turned in for the night. Instead of running off it would be much better to tell us where you go so the rest of us don’t worry.”

“You know, you don’t have to be so fucking judgy all the time,” Beau grumbled as the barkeep returned with a large mug of something that smelled strong even from where Caleb was sitting and Beau hunched over it protectively, cradling it to her chest. “And just because you’re smarter than me doesn’t give you the right to be a dick.”

“And being stronger than me doesn’t give you the right to be a pain in my ass yet here we are.” Caleb retorted and gained a sick satisfaction from the way Beau bit her tongue to hold back her snarky comment. He appraised her again with a tilted head and she glared at him until he turned his eyes back down to his page. “If I didn’t know any better, I would almost say that you enjoy getting the crap beaten out of you every night.”

Beau shrugged and wiped the drying blood off her chin with the back of her hand, smearing it across her face. “What can I say? Ladies are hot when they’re angry and trying to knock your fucking lights out.” She shrugged. “Men are too, I guess, but there isn’t much of a challenge when they’re much bigger than you. I like being on an even playing field, you know?”

Sighing, Caleb watched through lidded eyes as Beau took a long, deep gulp of her drink. “So you do go out searching for fights every night? I thought that was just an aesthetic but you actually enjoy being beaten to a pulp every night of the week.”

“Technically that’s still an aesthetic.” Beau pointed out. Caleb pursed his lips as her lips began to swell. “And why the fuck do you care? You’re not my mum, you can’t tell me what to do. You’re starting to sound like Molly.”

“Now that is a worrisome thought,” Caleb smiled into his book before he sharply closed it and looked seriously up at Beau. “Go and ask the barmaid for some ice for your face. It’s starting to look like you got hit by a melon. Besides, she seems to be your type, _ja_? I’m sure you can smooth talk your way into getting a handful.” He rolled his eyes at Beau’s look. “No, this is not a prank and yes, I promise I will not touch your drink.” Reluctantly, Beau rose and made her way to the bar, sneaking a few glances over her shoulder to make sure Caleb kept his promise.

While Beau was gone, Caleb clicked his fingers and Frumpkin appeared in Beau’s recently vacated seat, licking his forefoot. He leaned over and sniffed once at the concoction in Beau’s tankard and turned his nose up, pulling away and covering his nose with his paw. Caleb laughed softly at him, “ _Ja_ , our friend sure does like the strong stuff, eh?” Frumpkin mewed pitifully and Caleb reached over to scratch him behind the ears before he pulled away and returned to the final pages of his book and Frumpkin returned to grooming himself.

Caleb was not in any way expecting a tankard to be set down heavily in front of him and he jumped and quickly moved his book out of the way before the sloshing liquid could land on the page. When he looked up she saw Beau’s stoic face, holding a large chunk of ice against the worst of the swelling. She turned away and when she saw Frumpkin blinking up at her from her chair, her face softened and she smiled slightly. “Hey buddy,” she cooed and Frumpkin jumped in her lap as she sat down. She turned to glare at Caleb. “You didn’t summon him to make me feel better did you?”

Shaking his head, he hoped the sharp movement and his hair would hide his smile as he put his hands out in front of him. “ _Nein_ , he was upstairs sleeping with Nott to keep her company until I finished here,” he lied. “I suppose he just got bored and went for a wonder.” Beau narrowed her eyes at him but after a moment she grunted and turned away, deciding not to press too deeply. “So? Was I right about the barkeep being your type?” Caleb heard some of the grumbled response but this time couldn’t hold back his smile.

Beau sipped at her drink while Frumpkin butted up against the back of her palm and all the while Caleb was watching them with narrowed eyes, practically obscured by his tankard and his hair that he was using to hide away from any of Beau’s judgmental looks. “So,” he said eventually and Beau glanced up from where she was rubbing Frumpkin’s tummy. “Why did you go out tonight?” Beau’s relaxed expression turned guarded in an instant and Caleb floundered for the right words. “I am not judging, Beauregard, but I did want to know if you went out for a reason or if it was spur of the moment. Because, despite only travelling with this group for a short while, it’s obvious that trouble tends to find us and not the other way around.”

There was a tense silence between them for a moment and Frumpkin meowed to get Beau’s attention and she turned back to petting the needy cat. “I don’t know,” Beau grumbled eventually, focused more on Frumpkin instead of Caleb himself and if it made her feel more comfortable to tell the story to his cat than to him, Caleb was fine with it. “There’s just something about the feeling of a split lip and a fist against my face, you know? It’s brutal and raw and passionate and it just makes me feel _alive_ to feel the swell of a bruise and the taste of blood on my tongue.”

“So you enjoy the fighting just as much as you enjoy getting fought?” Caleb asked. He took a sip from the tankard Beau had placed in front of him and was pleased to note that it tasted more like mead than whatever vile concoction was in Beau’s cup.

“Fuck yeah,” She declared and slammed her tanked down on the wooden table to make her point official. Beside her, Frumpkin jumped at the sudden noise. “The feeling of someone’s nose breaking under my knuckles and a rib shifting out of place under my feet and someone’s blood on my hand is just as exhilarating as getting beat up. And besides, we can always find someone who needs a good ass kicking around here.”

Caleb shook his head. “Not me. I avoid violence like the plague. It does not befit anyone to be bleeding alone in the streets.”

Shrugging, Beau kicked her feet onto the chair beside her and let Frumpkin lounge over her while she held her tankard in one hand and swirled the liquid within. “Maybe not, but I chose it over reading a book that big any day,” she waved her other hand at Caleb’s open tome. “Besides- you guys are always giving me crap for being angry all the time so this is a win-win for everyone.”

Frowning, Caleb shut his tome and looked down at the closed cover of his book. “I don’t think that the best solution to curb your aggressive nature is to cause yourself harm, but I will not stop you if it is what you wish to continue to do. I just hope that you will have Jester take a look at you before you go to bed, to heal the worst of it.”

Beau took a long swig of her drink and titled her head back so she could stare at the ceiling. “Nah, I’ll be fine. They usually heal up overnight and there isn’t any reason for this time to be any different. I’ll just sleep on it and bandage up whatever remains.”

“Regardless, I still would hope that you’d have Jester check on you in the morning, at least.” When Beau turned to glare at him Caleb returned with his own glare that he hoped but doubted was as equally striking. “I mean it, Beauregard. I don’t want anything to happen to you if it can be avoided and I think that it will be good for her to learn how to heal more than play pranks on unsuspecting shop owners.”

“Fine,” Beau spat. “I’ll think about it.”

There were footsteps from the staircase and a loud, obnoxious whistling. They saw an offensive coat, knee-high boots and a purple tail and soon the rest of Molly appeared, shuffling his cards and staring at the bar with a hungry glint in his eyes. When he caught sight of them, he frowned. “You look like shit,” he said to Beau.

Annoyed, Beau threw her arms up in the air. “Why is everyone so determined to tell me? I know that- you don’t need to rub it in.”

“I wasn’t sure if you did,” Molly put his cards away and slowly approached them. “You hadn’t done anything to fix it. I thought I would point it out in case you just didn’t realize all the blood on your face. Is it a fashion statement? I’m not sure I can get behind this one I’m afraid- it somehow looks both horrible and painful at the same time.”

“Like you’re one to talk- you’re only talent is blood-letting,” Beau snorted and kicked a chair out for Molly to sit and he crossed his legs over each other on the table immediately, forcing Caleb to move his book and Beau to move her drink and Frumpkin to hiss in annoyance.

“Don’t speak too soon, my dear,” Molly grinned, folding his arms behind his head and sticking his forked tongue out a Beau. “My talent is that, and talking absolute shit.”

Beau pursed her lips. “Damn, I can’t even insult you by telling you that you’re not, because then that would be a lie.”

“Damn right! It's an art form that I have perfected over my long life of living with the circus folk and don't you forget it!” Molly laughed, his tail lashing wildly between his legs. Suddenly, the mood grew serious and he looked at Beau with something akin to worry. “But really, you don’t look so hot. Maybe you should finish your drink and head up to bed? Or take your drink with you to bed?”

As Beau frowned, Caleb realized that whatever the barmaid had put into her tankard was much stronger than he had originally thought. “But I haven’t paid for my drink yet and Belinda was too nice not to get a tip.”

“Belinda?” Caleb asked and Molly shot him a warning look. “Oh right, Belinda.”

“Don’t worry about a thing dear,” Molly reassured, slowly removing himself from the table and rested a hand on Beau’s and it was a testament to how drunk she really was the Beau didn’t recoil immediately from the contact. “I’ll take care of it and let her know where she can find you in the morning because while I’m sure you were looking forward to a randy night with the lovely woman, I’m not so sure you’d want to experience it like this.”

After a moment of Beau frowning and glaring off into the distance, she sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She sounded so defeated that Caleb almost felt sorry for her. Almost. 

“Alright then, off you pop.” Molly rubbed his hands together and pulled Beau up from her seat. “Do you need help getting up there or can you walk on your own? I mean, I know your pride is wounded and your face just always looks that bad, but I don’t know what kind of working order your legs are in. Do you need me to hire a horse and cart to carry you up?” he teased and cackled when Beau swatted at his arm, annoyed and made her way up the stairs, calling a goodnight over her shoulder before she disappeared.

Caleb nodded his head in her direction and Frumpkin leapt off the chair and swiftly followed after her before she could unknowingly shut the door in his face and Caleb sent him the silent message to wake Jester up once they got there. With Beau gone, Molly turned to Caleb. “You too Caleb. You got hurt an awful lot tonight and I know Fjord got fucking shitty with you the other day when he came down and found you reading where he had left you the night before. You head up- I’ll hold down the fort.”

“ _Ja_ , thank you Mollymauk,” Caleb closed his book again and realized for the first time how tired he really was. He wondered for a moment if Molly had cast a spell on him and that his words were actually laced with magic, but he seemed more occupied by tipping the remaining drops of Beau’s drink onto his tongue. “I am not so sure I would have been able to deal without her much longer without some kind of assistance.”

“Not to worry friend, I know she can be a bit of a handful sometimes.” He turned his eyes skywards as if he was searching the rotting roof beams for answers. “Actually, she’s a handful all the time, but you get my point.” His tail nudged Caleb under the table and the wizard hastily gathered his things and stood to escape the gentle yet insistent contact. Molly’s face softened when his and Caleb’s eyes met for a moment before they both looked away. “You should probably make sure Nott hasn’t eaten her hand in worry. You’ve been down here quite a while. Go get some rest- you’ll need it for the trip.”

With mumbled words of gratitude, Caleb made his way towards the stairs but Molly called out as he made his way to the bar, “Be careful you don’t trip, I lit a torch for you just in case,” and Caleb was rushing back to his room hurriedly as Molly laughed and scraped a chair out from under the bar and began chatting politely to the Belinda the barkeep.

He paused for a moment at the door to Beau’s room and was more than pleased to hear the heavy snoring through the wood and Jester angrily grumbling all her grievances about ‘annoying friends’ who ‘always get hurt’ and ‘never let her help them’ and that ‘she just wants to sleep!’ to an eagerly listening Frumpkin and Caleb scurried back to his room with a smile on his face that he was sure he couldn’t get rid of if he tried.


End file.
